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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27850802">Goldenrod Dancer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurbleJerry/pseuds/Squishy'>Squishy (BurbleJerry)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Dancer Odin, Gen, Time Skips, What-If</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:14:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27850802</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurbleJerry/pseuds/Squishy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Odin practices becoming a dancer and reflects on a past attempt to dance.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Goldenrod Dancer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That looks easy,” Owain had told himself. Once again, he’d found Inigo practicing in secret; the obvious improvement in his friend's skill had inspired him to try his (sword) hand at the art of dancing. “After all,” he’d said to himself, full of swagger, “My very life has been a choreography of epics! To transfer that to dance should be no problem!”</p>
<p>Later that day, Owain had found a nice, private clearing of his own. With plenty of space, he set about with his dance practice. He dropped into one of his favorite fighting stances, hand held before his face and feet firmly set. The fresh smell of the grass he’d stepped upon wafted faintly to him, while the gentle breeze stirred his short, fluffy locks. Sunlight streamed from above and perfectly illuminated the area, even as the shadows of the surrounding trees steadily lengthened. He stood amidst the center of it all and awaited his inspiration.</p>
<p>As the minutes passed, Owain’s mind had wandered. He shook his head to clear it and focused, trying to visualize a heroic dance of darkness. Eventually, as the shadows of the treetops reached his boots, he realized that he was growing sore from just standing there. Furthermore, he realized that he had no idea where to start or even how to start. Regretfully, he realized that maybe this dancing thing was harder then he’d thought.</p>
<p>“No matter,” Owain told himself, “a legendary hero of my caliber won’t be held back by such a simple block of my creative prowess!” His eyes narrowed. “All I must do is turn my postures of power into modes of mobility!”</p>
<p>What had seemed like a simple task quickly turned into a couple of hours of fruitless flailing. At first, Owain tried to rapidly switch from pose to pose, because he figured that dancing was just a lot of poses done, one after another. He thought he was onto something, but after about thirty different poses, he realized that this wasn’t quite what he was looking for. The motions refused to flow together or even resemble a dance.</p>
<p>Eventually, Owain flopped back on the grass, limbs splayed out. “He makes… it seem… so easy,” he panted. The sky had turned dark blue above him, and he sighed. “Maybe… I’ll just… leave this… to him…”</p>
<p>With a grunt, Owain got to his feet and began to make his way back to camp. At least he could console himself with dinner.</p>
<p>~~~~~</p>
<p>Odin opened his eyes. His reflection stared back at him, adorned in a modified, black-and-yellow version of the dancer’s outfit that Azura usually wore. He allowed himself a small smile; his simple memory of his past attempt at dancing was even fresher when he looked the part. It helped that Azura had taught him the basics, despite her preference for singing. Now all he needed to do was practice and, he hoped, find his inner style.</p>
<p>Odin stepped back from the room-length mirror to give himself space. He had been lent a small room, devoid of furniture, where he had enough space to move around. His slippered feet slid on the smooth, polished wooden floor with ease.</p>
<p>“Specter of my past, I shall draw upon your fumbling ways!” Odin exclaimed as he began the exercises that Azura had shown him earlier. He bent low to touch his toes, but then he frowned. “Wait, no… memories of old, I shall draw upon your… “ he trailed off as he reached for the ceiling, “Oh, wait, breathing, right,” he muttered, and sighed before he went quiet as he stretched; he recalled how much emphasis Azura had put on proper breathing.</p>
<p>As Odin stretched, he went over catchphrases and poses in his head. He would have to time his words just right if he wanted to say them and still dance without over-tiring himself, for Azura had been very thorough in explaining how demanding the art of dance could be. Not to mention that certain aspects of every dance made the magic work; therefore, there were parts that he couldn’t casually change. When he’d asked if he could ever change those parts for the sake of style, Azura had admitted that he’d have to figure out how to channel his magic to make up for any changes to the ritual, but that it could be done. However, she had warned him that he must master the basics before anything else. At first, the delay had depressed him; but after some thought, he saw it as a challenge. As he finished the exercises meant to limber himself up for dance, he decided to try out some of his simpler ideas. After all, he figured, it couldn't hurt to try.</p>
<p>Unlike his failed dance attempt of the distant past, he had a good idea of what he could and couldn’t do. He kept all the main movements that he’d been shown; he even ran through them a few times before he experimented. A flick of the cape here, an extra twirl there, and even a heartening shout or two. This time, as he kept an eye on himself in the mirror, he could feel his progress. He could grasp what he was doing, and why and how it worked, and even begin to add in his special stygian flair. The understanding he’d gained filled him with pride, but he also knew he had a long way to go.</p>
<p>Finally, sweaty and panting, Odin halted his practice and faced his reflection with a happy grin. “Though I may struggle on for weeks or months more,” he declared, “I will master this ancient art!” He briefly wheezed as he ran out of breath and made a mental note to keep better track of how tired he got. As he eased into the post-dance stretches, he thought about how he’d show Lady Azura his ideas. The thought of her helping him make a cool dance all his own was exciting! “But first,” he muttered to himself as his arm joints creaked above his head, “a long rest is in order.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope y'all enjoy! If you like my work, then please consider checking out my Twitter https://twitter.com/Squishy_Jerry :3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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